


Baby Teeth

by TheNovelust



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Canonical Child Abuse, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Kid Tony Stark, M/M, Parent Steve Rogers, Reluctant Parent Bucky Barnes, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark-centric, comic based, past rape/rape reference in later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-07-08 05:01:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19863910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNovelust/pseuds/TheNovelust
Summary: With the death of his parents, Tony Stark’s world is forever changed.





	1. Death

**Author's Note:**

> This is an unbetaed fic that I work on in my free time. I am going to try and update it as much as possible.

Tony had grown used to the spotlight long ago. He got comfortable in it, able to wear a mask for the media that almost made Tony believe he truly felt as happy and carefree as he seemed.

Today he'd put on a different face, one a little too close to home for his comfort, but not enough to reveal more than he wanted to anyone. He should look appropriate for the occasion, after all.

_Stark men are made of iron._

He heard his father’s words echoing in his head now louder than ever. His father wouldn't have expected him to cry, and for that Tony was glad as he didn't think he could muster the tears no matter how hard he tried.

He could feel all eyes on him, even as he sat at the pew in the front, looking up obediently at the preacher as he gave a sermon.

Tony would be the first speaker, after the preacher of course. If he hadn't had Pepper hand him a well written speech yesterday, he wouldn't have been able to think of anything to say. All the people sitting here didn't want to hear about the real Howard Stark. They didn't want to know the man behind closed doors, not when he had lived and certainly not now after his death. They came to honor a legend, and they wouldn't accept anything less than an affirmation to that greatness. If Tony said anything about the real Howard Stark, he would just be dismissed anyway. He was grieving, acting out, never learned his manners, just wanted attention. He already knew what they would say.

The sermon droned on and Tony blocked it out, thinking of anything except the events transpiring before him. He'd become good at ignoring things, at pretending they didn't exist. He had learned from the best, after all.

He missed his cue, lost in his own thoughts, or lost suppressing them. Obadiah’s elbow poked him in the ribs, bringing him back to the present and causing him to stand and walk to the front of the church. He looked out at the millions of faces, every pair of eyes on him. The place was so cramped with people wanting to honor his father. Many stood at the back of the church, shoulder to shoulder and looking straight at him. A few camera shutters sounded, louder than ever in the stillness.

Tony glanced down at the paper in front of him, although he didn't need it. He memorized the words last night while he couldn’t sleep. It had little to do with the funeral in the morning and everything to do with his routine. He never could get to sleep at night. While the world quieted, his brain came alive and refused to stop. He licked his lips and gave another glance around the room before he began.

“As I stand here, I see all manner of friends and relatives that have come great distances to honor the great man you all knew as Howard Stark. I am humbled and quite frankly impressed at how he must have touched your lives. My father was a pioneer in the weapons industry, leading the charge years ahead of his competitors. He gained admiration wherever he went, especially with his commitment to his company. I know the world will miss my father and his technological contributions. He was taken from this life far too soon by a tragic accident that no one could have seen coming. He died as he lived, with my mother by his side. The world has lost two amazing people. Only time can heal our hearts. I know that we will never forget them.” Tony hated that no one cared enough about his mother for her to earn more than a last minute mention, and only in relation to Howard. At least Pepper didn't have him lie. He could be grateful for that, something he didn’t feel often.

Tony went to sit back down, taking his place between Obadiah and Pepper once more. It was Obadiah’s turn to stand and address the crowd. Tony looked down to his feet as the older man spoke. He had known Obie since he was a baby. He couldn’t ever remember a time not knowing him, as he was Howard’s longest business partner. He would be taking over control of the company now, just taking care of it until Tony came of age. At least, that’s what everyone had told him, assuring him his throne at Stark Industries would be waiting for him until he turned 18. He wasn’t sure he wanted it.

Tony didn’t know what would happen to him now. He supposed he would stay in the house with Jarvis. Jarvis had always been the one to take care of him anyway. He was more of a father to Tony than Howard had ever been. Maybe Pepper would move in, and Happy too. He could dream of all those people coming to take care of him, but the chance it would happen seemed dimmed. He grounded himself back to reality. His father always liked that.

Stane finished talking. Tony hadn’t heard a word he said and found himself glad that his father wasn’t around to punish him for not being able to pay attention. Obadiah came and sat down next to Tony once more, wrapping his arm around Tony’s shoulders and engulfing him, certainly a move for the press at the back of the church. Tony stiffened at the close contact, wishing that he could pull away but he didn’t want to make a scene. His father would be -

Tony caught himself mid-thought. His father was dead, laying in the casket just a few feet away. The pallbearers came and lifted the caskets, men in uniform and fancy suits for his father and some distant relatives for his mother. He didn’t recognize any of them, but then again he wasn’t really looking at their faces. Her saw his face reflected in the polished wood for a moment as the casket passed, sullen and tired. He followed obediently after them. Obie threw an arm around him again once they were outside. Tony could hear a million clicks of camera shutters as they passed and got into the back of a luxury black car. Obadiah sat across from him in the car. Tony looked down into his lap. He could feel Happy’s eyes on him for a moment before the car started moving. Tony didn’t want to see any pity. He didn’t want to acknowledge that he had just lost his parents, that the whole world was watching and feeling sorry for him.

The drive to the cemetery didn't take long, and, thankfully, Obadiah didn't try and make conversation with him. Obie was a businessman through and through, and Tony often found himself growing tired of the older man’s business-like demeanor and ramblings. He couldn't really say he dislikes Obadiah, not really, even though he had -

The car came to a stop outside the Stark mausoleum. Happy threw it in park and then went to go open the door for Tony. Tony avoided looking at him. Happy wore his emotions on his sleeve and Tony felt even a glance at the man could send him over the edge and cause him to… maybe not cry, but he certainly would have some sort of emotional outburst if he allowed himself to look at Happy.

Obie’s arm wrapped around him again, another show for the press and the cameras are it up. The shutters sounded deafening to Tony in the stillness of the cemetery. It didn't feel like a proper day to hold a funeral, despite the somber atmosphere hanging in the air. The sun shone brightly overhead, and the weather had warmed up considerably for December in New York. It would have been a nice day to be outside, if Tony was into that sort of thing and they weren't just about to entomb his parents in a family mausoleum with the next space over clearly reserved for Tony himself.

Tony watched, standing by Obadiah’s side, as the caskets were inserted into the companion crypt. Tony felt sorry for his mother, having to spend the rest of eternity with his father with no choice. She had become a Stark, and she would be entombed like a Stark. Tony didn’t know what to believe about the afterlife, but he hoped his mother would be happy if there was one.

The closing of the crypt echoed in his ears, so final as it shut on his parents forever. No, not his parents. Just their bodies. He didn’t know if that thought made him feel better or not. They seemed to stand there for ages, just staring. Tony shifted uncomfortably once, but not more than that. His father would be angry at him for moving too much.

Finally, it was Obie who pulled away, bringing a hand up to his eyes with a great sigh. Tony wondered if he was crying, but doubted it. Maybe he just had a headache.

Tony followed him back to the car, where Happy opened the door for both of them and then closed it behind them once they had slid into their seats. In a moment, the car made its way around the cemetery and headed back to Stark Mansion. Tony watched the scenery fly by, wondering what Jarvis would make for dinner.


	2. Guardians

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony meets his new guardians, young married couple Steve and Bucky.

“I can't stay here?” Tony asked, memories of when his parents dropped him off at boarding school swirling in the back of his mind. Jarvis would never do something so cruel to him, but he supposed that Jarvis didn't have a choice in the matter. Neither did Tony. He was a minor, and his father’s will had very clearly instructed what was to be done with him, just like any other piece of property on the estate.

Jarvis placed a gentle, old hand upon Tony’s shoulder. Tony could feel his fingers shaking slightly and for the first time in his life he seemed to notice Jarvis’ age. “Some things are out of our control, Master Stark.” Tony hated when Jarvis called him that, but he nodded. There was no point in arguing now.

“When will they be here?” Tony’s large blue eyes looked up at his butler, resisting the urge to throw his arms around the old man. His father always hated when he saw him being kind to “the help”.

_They have their place, and we have ours. Just stay out of their way._

“Shortly,” Jarvis answered, and Tony had come to understand over the years that Jarvis used that answer when he didn’t know when something would happen.

Tony smirked knowingly at the man but said nothing. He stared down at the plate in front of him, pushing the eggs from one side to the other in an attempt to make it seem like he had actually eaten them. His appetite hadn’t returned yet, but he didn’t want anyone to worry about him. He wished he had a dog that wouldn’t mind taking what he didn’t want. His father hated animals and had never allowed him to own one. It had probably been for the better — Tony could hardly take care of himself.

When he felt satisfied with the masterpiece he had made, he stood from the table and looked over his shoulder at the butler, still cleaning up from breakfast. He thought for a moment about telling Jarvis where he was going then thought better of it. The butler probably didn't care. Maybe he was happy Tony was leaving. He'd have the estate to himself without Tony making a mess of things or getting in the way.

Tony went to his room, slouching into the chair at his desk and scooping up his latest project in one smooth motion. Tool in hand, he set about his work. The time flew by and only a knock upon his door jarred him from his thoughts and pulled him away from his project. He gave a quick glance at the clock. 1 pm. Probably just Jarvis with lunch.

“Come in.”

Jarvis had more than lunch with him. Tony often took lunch in his room, his mother and father usually too engaged with their own affairs to make time for another family meal. The butler had a great tray with him, a simple meal upon it, but behind him were two men, one blonde and the other brunette.

Tony looked up at the blonde. The older man towered over him, his soft blue eyes much warmer than Tony’s own deep blue ones. His smile radiated understanding and sympathy. Tony instantly decided he hated it.

Tony’s eyes went to the brunette next, who stood behind the blonde looking cold and sullen, dark circles around his eyes. He reminded Tony of his father, if his father had been a homeless man. He instantly decided he hated that too, but at least it was something familiar.

Jarvis set the plate upon Tony’s desk in a small area that remained clear of clutter for that reason. “Your lunch, Master Stark, and your new guardians. This is Steven Rogers,” Jarvis gestured at the blonde, “and his husband, James Barnes.” Jarvis moved away from the desk, but Tony noticed he didn't leave the room like he usually did, instead hanging back.

Tony felt cemented to his chair, held in place by that smile and the sullen scowl. His heart beat wildly in his chest, tight against lungs that couldn't hold a breath. “A beefcake and his homeless raccoon boyfriend are my new guardians?” The words came from his mouth before he could stop them. He wrinkled his nose as if to accentuate his comment, but it was actually in disgust at himself.

The smile disappeared from Steven’s face replaced by a disappointed frown Tony recognized all too well even on a completely different face, but the look in his eyes didn't change. “We prefer to go by Steve and Bucky. The personal nicknames can come later.”

Tony could sense a bit of a grin twisting the corners of Steve’s mouth slightly. So, at least one of them had a sense of humor. Tony could work with that, probably.

“I’m sorry about your parents, Tony,” Steve continued, his expression pained, “but I hope you'll enjoy staying with us.” The smile upon the man’s face confused Tony, so much compassion and hope in one little curve of the lips.

“Yeah, sure,” Tony croaked out, finally standing and going to get a suitcase and backpack Jarvis had prepared for him that sat by the closet.

“Our apartment isn't as spacious as your house, but you'll always be welcome to come and get whatever you need from here.” Steve eyed the small luggage. Tony supposed he was wondering how he had reduced his life to fit within Jude those two bags. The beauty of it was that he never had to decide, like he never really decided anything about his life. The responsibility had been transferred to someone else.

Obie caught them on the way out, entering the foyer just as they headed for the door. Tony eyed the man as he came over for a friendly hug. “Obadiah Stane. I was one of Howard's closest friends and long time business partners.” He shook Steve’s hand, then Bucky’s. Tony felt like running, or at least twisting out of Obadiah’s grasp. Steve and Bucky were around, but not the press. He didn't see the need for Obadiah’s theatrics at the moment.

“Steve Rogers, and this is my husband James Barnes.” Steve smiled as he shook Obadiah’s hand, but Tony noticed a different quality to his smile now.

Obie grinned as if he had been the best man at their wedding. “If Tony here gets to be too much for you, just let me know. I'd be glad to take him off your hands. I've know the boy since he was in dippers.”

Tony hated when adults talked about him as if he wasn't there. His father did it often, had done it often.

Steve cast an uncertain glance over at Tony. “Well, if Tony would prefer to live with you instead of a couple of strangers, I can arrange for that. But it has to be what Tony wants.”

That startled Tony, so used to others making decisions for him without ever thinking about what he wanted. “I'll take my chances with the hobo.” Tony tilted his head towards Bucky, who had put his arm across his chest, eyes narrowed as he watched the exchange between Steve and Stane.

Obie smiled and Tony felt a chill run down his spine. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.” He gave Steve and Bucky another handshake, then clapped his hand onto Tony’s shoulder and squeezed tightly. He disappeared deeper into the house and Tony went to the door, Steve, Bucky, and Jarvis following behind.

When he set eyes upon the beat up Ford in the driveway, he physically recoiled. Tony could tell the car was in bad shape just by looking at it. What a miracle that old thing had made it up the steep driveway at all. Steve hurried in front of him and popped the trunk so Tony could place his bags inside. Once the trunk closed, Tony could see Jarvis watching him from the steps. Tony went back to the butler, standing in front of the older man and pausing for a moment.

And, as much as he knew his father would hate what he was about to do, he threw his arms around the man and squeezed tight. The contact only lasted a moment, something in Tony’s brain screaming that he couldn't stay like this for long.

When he pulled away, Jarvis smiled sadly at him. “I will miss you, Master Stark. Take care.” He placed a gentle hand upon Tony’s shoulder, holding him there for a moment. Once Jarvis dropped his hand, Tony turned to go and climbed into the backseat of the Ford. He slumped his head against the window and didn't look at Steve or Bucky the entire way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m trying to keep the chapters around 1,500 words to hopefully be able to update often and consistently. Thank you to everyone who has read so far. I hope you’re enjoying it. :)


	3. New Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony settles into his home for the foreseeable future.

“This is it,” Steve announced proudly as they stepped into the apartment, “I can give you a grand tour. There's not much to it but it's our home.” The unsaid hopeful sentence hung in the air like a fog. _”And we hope it can be yours too.”_

Tony made something between a grunt and a sigh as a response. His backpack hung off one shoulder, but Steve had insisted on taking his suitcase up himself. The apartment sat in a corner of the twelfth floor, a nice little spot that offered them a better view of the city than Tony could have hoped.

Bucky disappeared into a hallway then a room without saying a word. Steve looked apologetic, maybe even slightly appalled, but Tony didn't really care. “You'll have to excuse Bucky. He isn't feeling well today.” Tony rolled his eyes.

Steve showed him around the apartment. The layout was simple and effective. Living room, kitchen, dining area, bathroom, laundry room, master bedroom (which Steve did not show him, only indicated with a tilt of his head), and, finally, his room.

Steve led the way to a room at the back of the apartment and opened the door, grin wide as he presented it to Tony. “This used to be our work out room, but once we heard you would be staying with us we fixed it up for you. If there's anything you don't like or something you want to change, just let us know. We want you to be comfortable.”

Tony couldn't help but notice that Steve kept referring to “we” and yet Bucky hadn't said a single word to him yet. He couldn't help but feel that Bucky didn't want him around, which wasn't a new feeling, in general. Most people didn't seem to want him around. Tony gave another grunt-sigh as he flopped into the chair in front of the desk, his backpack sliding to the floor in one smooth motion.

“I'm going to get started on dinner. I'll let you get comfortable. Just come out whenever you're ready.” Steve left the room, closing the door behind him. With him gone, Tony allowed himself to look around the room and properly take it in. A simple room, it would suit his needs, for now at least. The desk he sat at faced the wall adjacent to the door, his bed against the wall adjacent to that. The wall opposite his featured a large window. The curtains had been pulled back and Tony went to look out the window. Grudgingly and only to himself, he admitted that the view was quite nice, as was the apartment. He began to wonder just what Steve and Bucky did to be able to afford a place with such a view.

He drew the curtains once more, drowning the room in darkness. Feeling his way around, he found the light switch and flicked it. The rest of the room was plain and rather bare. A poster of a car hung on one wall above the desk. Tony couldn't decide if he wanted to keep it up or trash it yet.

The scent of food wafted into his room from down the hall. His appetite still hadn't returned, but the heavenly scent enticed him to go check the kitchen anyway. Peeking around the corner first, he saw Steve at the stove, his back to Tony, deftly moving and managing multiple pots and pans. Tony took the opportunity to sneak past and deposit himself on a chair at the bar overlooking the kitchen.

Tony sat in silence, arms crossed as he watched Steve. His expression remained impassive, but for once he didn’t feel so sullen. It was a moment before Steve finally noticed him, a moment that stretched out comfortably and left Tony empty once it left.

“Hey, I didn't see you there,” Steve smiled easily, his hands still working, one mixing something in a pot and the other flipping some pork chops. “You must be hungry, huh? I got a late start on dinner today. Sorry about that.”

Tony shrugged his shoulders, looking away. “Not like I'm in any rush to eat peasant food.” Steve wasn't Jarvis, hadn't been classically trained in French cuisine and dabbled in gastronomy. No, Steve seemed more like a lonely house husband with too much time on his hands.

Steve didn't say anything in return, and Tony shifted in his seat slightly. He picked his head back up, watching Steve pile and pour the food onto serving dishes.

“Normally I ask Bucky to set the table, but he's not feeling well. I’d ask you, but you don't know where anything is yet. You're welcome to help me if you want so you can familiarize yourself with the place.” Steve smiled that easy smile again, and Tony shifted once more, crossing his arms and refusing to look.

Steve began removing plates and silverware from various cabinets, announcing his actions as he did so. “And this is where we keep the glasses. I know it must all be very overwhelming, but you'll get used to it in no time.” Steve continued to ramble, deftly holding plates and spoons and napkins as he set the table. Tony watched him from his place at the bar, looking down at Steve from under long lashes.

When Steve finished setting the table, he went back to the stove and took his carefully prepared dishes to the table. “Can you go get Bucky for me? You remember where the room is right?” Steve looked up at Tony, blue eyes full of some kind of emotion Tony couldn’t quite place.

Tony rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh, sliding off the barstool and plodding off to the master bedroom. He stopped at the door, sucking in a deep breath before raising his hand knocking. Two sharp taps upon the door. A muffled grunt beyond the door. Hurried footsteps. And then… The door thrown open, a disgruntled Bucky looking right into his eyes. “Whaddaya want?”

“Adonis says dinner’s ready.”

It took a beat before Bucky’s confused expression shifted to understanding. He made a grunt Tony couldn’t interpret. It didn’t matter. Tony was already on his way back to the kitchen. He found Steve pouring water into each cup. He noticed the slight change of his expression when Bucky entered the room, the smile leaving his eyes, a mask staying behind. Tony knew all about masks.

“Dinner is served. Hope you enjoy.” Steve looked expectantly at them and Tony turned away, slumping into a chair. Steve sat across from him, Bucky at his side. The began grabbing dishes, serving themselves. Tony watched for a moment, arms crossed. It took an embarrassing amount of time before he remembered that he would have to serve himself now. His stomach, that traitor, gave a low growl, prompting him to plop a scoop of mashed potatoes on his plate. He went ahead and grabbed some green beans and a pork chop for good measure.

He accidentally shoveled a forkful into his mouth, glancing at the head of the table which remained empty. Instead, Steve had sat himself directly across from Tony, like an equal. No, Steve wasn't Jarvis, but Tony could enjoy this meal just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is a little shorter than usual, and the update a bit late. I hope next chapter will be longer to compensate. ;) I've already started working on it.


	4. First Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve reflects on the events of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is from Steve's POV.
> 
> Content Warnings: Marital Issues, Masturbation

He had considered asking the teen to help him clean up but thought better of it. After the last few days, Tony probably wanted time alone. It didn't help that he had been shoved into the spotlight, and now Steve felt the need to hover over him and protect him like some kind of mother hen.

_”There's no danger here. He's safe here.”_ Steve reminded himself as he began to wash the dishes.

Taking in the orphaned teenage son of his ex-lover had never been in Steve's life plan, but he would certainly make the best of it.

_Bucky…_ Steve sighed at the thought of his husband. Bucky had gone through so much, and here Steve was piling more things on top of him. But it wasn't like he could just refuse guardianship. Tony needed him just as much as Bucky did.

He had honestly thought Howard had been joking when he asked him to be the guardian of his child if something ever happened to him. They had met casually over drinks for the first time in a couple of years. Steve hadn't even known Howard had a kid. Steve has laughed at the idea, given Howard some sarcastic quip, and the conversation had moved on.

Steve didn't see much of Howard after that. He wondered what kind of father he had been. Steve had sat in at the funeral, managing to snag a seat in one of the back pews. Tony's speech had struck him as too scripted, too calculated, with little warmth or love. But then again, maybe that was just how things were when you grew up being the center of attention. 

With the dishes finished, he walked back to his bedroom. Bucky laid in bed, and Steve watched his breathing for a moment until he could tell Bucky was still awake. It had been a long day, but Steve needed some husbandly affection right now. He slid into bed beside his husband, wrapping his arm around the other man. Bucky didn’t move, and Steve went in to kiss his neck. He felt Bucky stiffen underneath his touch.

The other man shifted, pulling the covers up around his neck. “Not tonight, Steve.”

Steve felt like he had been punched in the gut, but the feeling was slowly becoming familiar. A little upset with himself thinking he could lean on his husband for a moment, he rolled out of the bed. Steve made his way to the bathroom shutting the door behind him, not caring how much noise it made. Once the door closed, he flicked on the light and went to the shower. He turned on the water then went back to the sink, picking up his toothbrush and toothpaste from the counter in one smooth motion. He brushed his teeth as the water warmed up, his mind wandering. Anything to keep himself from thinking of what had just happened.

He couldn’t believe that he had agreed to this. Mr. Stane had offered to take Tony, and he was probably better suited for the job. Tony had known him since he was a baby, and Mr. Stane could provide more than Steve and Bucky could in the tiny apartment. He knew the ins and out of the business world, the world Tony had been raised in.

But something just hadn’t sat quite right with him when confronted with the idea. He owed this to Howard, even if he had no clue how to be a parent, especially not a parent to a teenager who had just lost his parents and home. Steve could relate, but he still felt like his life experience and Tony’s were worlds apart.

He stepped into the shower. The hot water felt good as the jets hit his aching muscles and the water ran down his body. He was tense, but when wasn’t he, really? And the past few days had certainly been something else. His mind wandered over the events of the day.

Picking up Tony had gone better than he expected. Of course, they found the house easily enough — it was pretty hard to miss a mansion in New York. Tony had gone willingly. He expected more of a fight, but he felt he had Jarvis to thank for that. The old butler certainly seemed to have everything in order. Steve wondered what would happen to him now.

The car had been surprisingly uneventful. Neither Tony or Bucky spoke the whole ride home. He knew Bucky didn’t feel well today, but he had been hoping his husband would have pulled himself together for a day and put in some effort.

No, that was harsh. Bucky was having a hard time. Steve had to remember that, had to forgive. He took a deep breath, just relishing in the warmth of the water for a moment. He continued thinking about his day.

Dinner had gone well, very well, if Steve could toot his own horn for a moment. He had been surprised that Tony had left the room to come watch him cook. He had thought it better to ignore Tony’s attempt to sneak past him into the kitchen, acting surprised when he finally “noticed” Tony sitting there watching him. Sure, Tony made a few quips at the dinner table, but that moment of silence between them still warmed Steve’s heart.

Tony reminded him so much of Howard. The resemblance was uncanny, even though Tony was much younger than when Steve had met Howard. He meant to think about Tony, to reflect on the day and how well things were going so far, but somehow his mind wandered to Howard and wouldn’t let go of the thought. He thought about how he met Howard — on base at one of his military presentations — and how the brunette had seemed to find him like a fly to honey. He always had a thing for brunettes, he guessed.

Howard had been charming, exciting, a smooth talker. He had been cultured in things Steve could only ever dream of, living life to the fullest. Steve enjoyed being his arm candy for a time.

And of course there was the sex. Steve would give anything for a round with Howard Stark right about now. It had been… What? Maybe a month or month and a half since he had sex with his husband. Bucky always withdrew when things were going to get heated between them, or worse, just gave Steve the cold shoulder like had just done.

The sex with Howard had always been exciting, passionate. Steve’s favorite time had always been the time they had gone down to the river. Howard complained about the sun and the bugs, but Steve loved being outdoors by the water. They were underneath a big weeping willow, shaded and cuddled up atop a blanket. Clothes never lasted long between them when they had some privacy and some time, and sometimes even when they didn’t. Howard had a gentleness to him that day, but the same passion still boiled underneath. Howard had been… hungry. And Steve had been able to match his appetite.

He recalled the details now under the jet streams, the way Howard had tasted, the way he had _felt_. His hand trailed down as he washed himself, eventually reaching his member. He had… maybe what could be considered a fourth of an erection from his reminiscing. He allowed his hand to stay there, working the soap into a lather as he worked his member into a full erection.

With the other hand, he braced himself against the wall. He wanted to think of his husband, he really did, but the thought of Howard, of that day lazy, gentle, hungry by the river kept sneaking back into his mind. God, what he wouldn’t give to be fucked like that again, to feel Howard against him.

He came.

And then he cried.

Howard would never touch him like that again. He would never even be able to see Howard again, to talk to him. And now he was taking care of his son — the son of a man he hadn’t spoken to in four or five years, whose son had never even met until Howard’s death.

And then he cried harder.

He had just masturbated thinking about his dead ex-lover instead of his husband, who was a few feet away, likely asleep on the bed they shared together. He felt terrible, sickened with himself. What was wrong with him? This was _not_ one of the Five Stages of Grief.

He cleaned himself up — properly this time — and shut off the water. He grabbed a towel from the nearby towel wrack and dried himself off before heading to the closet and pulling on some pajamas.

He climbed in bed with Bucky. He didn’t try anything this time, just got under the covers and drew them up to his chin, his back to his husband.

This was just the first night. Tomorrow was another day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My original vision for this chapter was not what ended up being written. Sometimes storylines have a mind of their own. Bucky will get a POV chapter in the near future to explain his side of things. I don't want to give too much away by rambling on in the notes haha
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read, comment, and/or leave kudos!


	5. Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony has problems sleeping. Steve helps him go pick up a suit.

Tony hadn't slept, unless the half hour he had spent in bed with his eyes closed counted. But that hadn't been sleep, not really. He had tried to quiet his mind and the activity only grew louder. He had given up on that pretty quickly.

He spent most of the night as his desk instead of his bed. He hadn't been able to bring his entire workshop with him, but he had enough to keep him entertained and passing the time in nights like the last. If his mind wanted to work, then he would at least put it to good use.

As the sun began to peak over the horizon and in past the curtains of his bedroom, his eyelids felt heavy, exhaustion finally hitting him. He might have even had a brief nap if his phone hasn't started vibrating wildly upon the desk.

The noise of metal against wood shook him from the peacefulness, every cell in his body awake and alert once more. With a frustrated sigh, he grabbed the phone and looked at the message. It was from Pepper. Something about a press conference for tomorrow.

He rolled his eyes and then typed his reply. "I'll put on my best Sad Orphan Boy look."

He shoved things around on his desk to make just enough space to put his head down with a groan. His sleeplessness was only getting worse. He needed something to take his mind off things, to keep him from letting his razor sharp focus onto things he didn't want to think about.

He realized he wasn't the only one awake in the house. Smells of cooking eggs, bell peppers, and bacon wafted into his bedroom. His stomach made a low rumbled and he sighed again. Hadn't he _just_ eaten? He didn't even feel hungry.

He ran his fingers through his hair then rubbed his temples as he let out a sigh. He left his room and went to the kitchen.

He found Steve at the stove, back to Tony and fiddling with some pots and pans again. Bucky was nowhere to be seen. Tony took a seat at the counter again, watching Steve cook.

"Mind setting the table?" Steve asked, casting a glance towards Tony. 

Tony had hoped to sit in silence like the night before. He let out a side and slid off the stool, in no mood for this after last night. He grabbed things from where he has seen Steve get them the night before.

"How'd you sleep?" Steve asked as Tony stacked some silverware atop the plates.

"Didn't." Tony grunted back, deliberately looking away from Steve so he didn't have to see _that_ look on his face. His new guardian was predictable. All adults were.

"I could make you some tea next time that happens. Usually helps me."

Tony snorted. Like some tea would be able to make him sleep, like it would be able to ease all his troubles. He set the table in silence. By the time he finished, Steve came over with the breakfast dishes. Tony sat himself down, determined not to do much more than this.

"I'll go get Bucky." Steve said, and from his tone, Tony could tell he had planned on asking him to do it again.

Steve returned with Bucky in tow and the two of them took their place at the table. Bucky was the first to serve himself, grabbing some bacon, toast, and an omelet. Steve followed. Tony deliberated a moment then served himself. Might as well try and eat something.

They ate in silence. Tony could feel a tension between Steve and Bucky, some of the same tension he had felt between his parents some mornings.

"I want to go back to school." He blurted out the sentence before he could stop himself.

Steve stopped with his fork midair, casting an apologetic glance at him. Tony steeled himself for a verbal lashing, for Steve to tell him he was ridiculous for thinking he could just go back to his life like nothing happened.

Instead, he got a soft voice dripping with concern. He think he might have liked the lashing better. At least he could have expected that. "Well, we were thinking you could go to school here. You know, nearby?"

"No more boarding school?" The thought seemed outlandish, wilder than anything Tony had ever done. He had always gone to boarding school. His father always said that was the only schooling appropriate for a boy like him.

Steve shook his head. "No more boarding school. Classes start Monday, but we can arrange a late start if you need more time."

"I'm good." Tony moved the eggs around his plate, still contemplating the thought of going to school without having to be sent away.

"No one would blame you for needing more time, Tony."

"I said I'm good." The words came harsher than he had meant them. He shoveled some food into his mouth in order to avoid looking at Steve. There was love in that omelet and bacon — he could tell by the way it had been so carefully arranged on the plate — and yet he couldn't taste any of it. It had turned to ashes in his mouth.

"Pepper called and told us you have a press conference tomorrow. I tried to get out of it. I really don't think you should be doing things like that right now, but it seems like it's unavoidable." Steve frowned at his eggs, as if they had personally offended him.

Tony shrugged. "It's fine." He set his fork down. He didn’t feel like eating anymore. The atmosphere of today seemed different than yesterday. “Can I be excused?” He looked up at Steve, who looked at Bucky first then back at him thoughtfully.

“Yes.”

Tony didn’t need to hear anymore. He stood up and went back to his room. Inside, he felt hot, like he wanted to take a cold shower.

Shower. He should probably do that. He rummaged around his drawers for a set of clothes. He had unpacked haphazardly, stuffing things where they would fit. After a few minutes, he managed to find everything he needed.

He went to the bathroom. He could hear the water running in the kitchen, probably Steve washing dishes, and some low mumbling, probably Steve and Bucky arguing over something. He turned on the water to drown them out. He often did something similar when his parents argued, but it had been much easier to get away from them in the mansion.

The water warmed and Tony undressed to put himself under it. The heat felt good against his skin, and for a while he could just focus on the way the water hit his skin without having to think about anything. It didn’t last long before the thoughts came rushing in.

He pushed them back, attempting to wash them away with soap and water. He scrubbed at his skin, relishing in the feel of the scrub and soap on his skin.

The shower ended all too quickly, but once he had used all the hot water, he saw no point in standing underneath the cold stream. He shut off the water and climbed out of the shower, grabbing a towel to dry himself off.

Sufficiently dry, he hung the towel back up and began to put on the fresh clothing he had brought into the bathroom. He hated getting dressed right after a shower like this. His moist skin and the steam made it difficult to pull his clothes on properly.

Once he got dressed, he exited the bathroom and went back to his room. Depositing himself at his desk chair, he scooped up another project and begun working.

Half the time, probably more, he had no vision for his projects. He just picked them up and he started working, doing anything to have his hands work and his mind focus. Things usually started to take shape after a while, his conscious pulling out a vision his subconscious had begun.

Lately it had been rudimentary robot arms. They were scale models, but fully functional nonetheless. He wanted something full size to be able to help him out whenever he needed and extra hand in the garage. He couldn’t quite get it to do what he wanted, but he suspected part of the problem was the coding. He’d work on that later, once he made the final version.

He didn’t know how long he had been working, but a knock on his door startled him, causing him to drop the latest component he had completed. “Uh, come in.” He said after a pause. A knock had never been asking for entrance before, merely something to alert him to the impending interruption.

Steve’s head poked in, locking on Tony sitting at the desk. He felt uncomfortable with that gaze upon him and shifted slightly. It didn’t help.

“Hey Tony. Pepper wants you to go try on the suit you’ll be wearing for the press conference tomorrow. Apparently it was at the tailor’s and they just want to make sure it still fits you well.”

Tony sighed and rolled his eyes. He had forgotten about that suit. It had been one of his father’s favorites on him, and therefore one of Tony’s most despised. “Can’t I wear something else? I have a hundred suits in the closet back home.”

Steve smiled apologetically. “I tried to get out of it, but she insisted it had to be this suit. We can get a late lunch and have a nice day out, if you want.” Steve added the last part hurriedly, his eyes drilling into Tony, searching for something.

Tony didn’t know what Steve wanted, so he turned away and shrugged. “Sure.”

He followed Steve out to the front door, slipping on his sneakers. “Buck-o isn’t coming with us?” He couldn’t see Bucky anywhere. Probably locked in his room again.

“Nope, just the two of us.” Steve put on his own shoes then opened the door. They made their way downstairs and into the car. Tony climbed into the front seat, dutifully putting on his seat belt before leaning his head against the window.

Steve sat in the driver’s seat and put the key into the ignition. It took three tries before the engine finally turned over and roared to life. Tony raised and eyebrow and gave Steve a disappointed look out of the corner of his eye.

The car got onto the crowded New York streets easily enough. Most of the lunch time traffic seemed to have cleared away and Steve wove the old clunker of a car expertly through what remained.

Tony wanted to sleep. His eyelids felt heavy. But every slight shake of the car or curve in the road jerked him awake. His body screamed out for rest, but his mind wouldn’t let him have it. An eternity passed in which his mind and body struggled before the car came to a sudden stop.

The shop was familiar, even from this angle. His father had always insisted that they use this shop. The man who ran it had been some kind of long time associate of his father’s. Tony hadn’t really cared to hear the story.

Steve shut off the engine and fed some money into the meter. Tony followed him into the shop. The shop owner, Mr. Kerr, got up from behind the desk and greeted Tony like an old friend. Tony supposed he had taken on the role of his father now. The older man wrapping his arm around him and demanding a handshake made Tony uncomfortable, but he forced a smile.

“Hey, Mr. Kerr, I’m here for my suit.” Tony managed to sly escape the embrace so as not to hurt any feelings.

“Ah, yes, yes. Ms. Potts said you would be by to try it on.” Mr. Kerr smiled, and Tony found himself strangely fond of the old man. Tony threw a glance at Steve, who just seemed to be watching them with interest, glimpsing into their world. “I’ll go and fetch it for you.” Mr. Kerr disappeared.

Tony looked around the shop, although nothing ever really changed. The suits were always new, the latest fashions, but it was basically all the same when it came down to it. He feigned interest in some display, his back turned to Steve, and closed his heavy eyelids for a moment instead.

The sound of Mr. Kerr coming back into the room jolted him back to reality. He turned to face the older gentleman and looked at the suit the man held. It was familiar, of course. Tony could probably recognize the feel with his eyes closed.

“I made the necessary adjustments,” Mr. Kerr began, “but that was quite some time ago and boys your age are always growing.” Tony took the suit from the man and went into one of the dressing rooms. He didn’t think he had grown much, if at all, in the past few weeks. He seemed behind his peers. Jarvis would always assure him that he would catch up with the other boys eventually, but Tony couldn’t feel so certain.

The suit fit, and Tony hated that it did. He turned away from the mirror and quickly stepped out of the dressing room. “Like a glove.” He said, raising his arms to show off the fit, even doing a full turn around to show off ever angle. He plastered a smile on his face, even though he was far from pleased.

“You look so much like your father,” Mr. Kerr comments, probably hoping for Tony to find some comfort in those words. Instead, the “compliment” took Tony aback and caused him to cringe. He hated being compared to his father in any way. The last thing he wanted was to be seen in any way similar to that man.

But he supposed it couldn’t be helped. That was his father, and it was hard to step out of the shadow of someone like Howard Stark.

“Thanks for the good work,” Tony said as he turned and went back to the fitting room. He took off the suit, changing back into his t-shirt and jeans and feeling much more comfortable.

He brought the suit back out with him. “You can settle any debts with Pepper. She’s still handling all that stuff.”

Mr. Kerr nodded. “Of course. It was Ms. Potts who informed me that you were coming today. The account has already been settled.”

Of course it had. That’s why Pepper was in charge of things and Tony wasn’t. “See you around.” Tony flashed the older man a grin and went out of the shop. Steve followed behind like some sort of obedient guard dog.

“There’s a little cafe a couple of blocks away that I think would be great for that late lunch,” Steve said, shocking Tony. He had almost forgotten that the old man could talk.

Tony shrugs his shoulders, non-committal. “Sure.” He dropped himself into the front seat as Steve went around to the driver’s side. Traffic had cleared up some and they made it to the cafe in just a few minutes.

The cafe was tucked into a corner of the neighborhood down a street that didn’t seem very used. It was rare to find places like this in this part of New York and Tony found himself wondering how Steve knew about it. A small sign in the window proudly proclaimed the place was open, although Tony wouldn’t have been able to tell without it.

They stepped inside and Tony felt like he had stepped into a time machine. The place was distinctly 1940’s and, while Tony didn’t claim to be an expert on that time period, the furniture and fixings looked authentic. Steve looked like he belonged here, sitting at one of the stools at the bar reading a newspaper in his button up plaid shirt neatly tucked away into his khaki pants.

Steve chose a booth towards the back of the cafe and sat down in the seat facing the door. Tony sat across from him. “This was one of my mom’s favorite places. I thought I would share it with you. It’s been in business forever, family owned.” Although Steve’s tone was light and welcoming, a worry had crept into blue eyes. Maybe the cafe wasn’t doing so well. Tony tried to imagine what he would feel if he knew Mr. Kerr was going out of business. He would probably feel bad for the man, but be happy of one less reminder of his father in the world.

The little bakery where his mother always got her cookies, however…

“What’s good here?” Tony asked, desperate to change the subject.

“The roast beef is great, so is the steak and eggs.” Steve looked as if he were scanning the menu, but Tony could tell it was just an act.

“Roast beef sounds great.” Jarvis made amazing roast beef. Tony found himself missing the butler more than his father would ever want him to admit.

“I think that’s what I’ll have too.” Steve said as he closed the menu and set it down away from him. Tony had a feeling that was Steve’s usual order.

The waitress came and took their order, drinks and food. She came back shortly with the drinks, promising them their food would be right out.

“What was your mom like?” Tony asked, curiosity forcing the question from his lips before he could take it back, turn it into something else.

Steve looked thoughtful for a moment, a far off look in his eyes, recalling some fond memory. “She was kind. Generous. She loved to read, fantasy mainly, and always read to me.” He stopped for a moment, chewing his bottom lip for a second. “She was a good woman.”

Tony thought of his own mother. He didn’t have much positive to say about his father, but his mother… He loved her, and she had loved him. Maybe the only one to ever really love him. She had told him, once, but his father had never uttered those words.

[i]Stark men are made of iron.[/i] No room for emotion, for feeling, for love. Tony had never heard him say those words to his mother either. Howard Stark did not love. Did Tony Stark?

The waitress returned with their food, jolting Tony out of his thoughts. The roast beef looked — and smelled — absolutely delicious. Steve had good taste. Even though he didn’t have much of an appetite, the smell of the roast beef caused him to take a few bites.

Steve smiled at him over his own plate, watching him for a moment before digging in. They ate in silence. Tony couldn’t finish his large helping. The mashed potatoes were his favorite part of the dish, the garlic taste a perfect compliment to the seasoning of the roast beef.

The waitress came, took the check. Tony wondered for a brief second what Steve’s finances were like. Had they been part of the reason that this random couple his father had never even talked about had agreed to take a kid they had never even met? The thought only crossed Tony’s mind for a fraction of a second, but it planted a small seed of doubt there.

“Let’s take the scenic route home.” Steve suggested.

Tony didn’t really know what scenic route there could be. He raised an eyebrow at Steve. “You sure that hunk of junk is gonna be alright driving around for that long?”

“She hasn’t failed me yet.” Steve grinned and Tony had to roll his eyes.

Back in the car, the sound of the tires on pavement lulled Tony to sleep, and, for once, he didn’t fight it. He dreamt of his mother and slept peacefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry that this update took so long! We just moved and it has been hard getting settled in. We are in a completely different city with no family around. My daughter also started school, so I've had to deal with that. I'm trying to make friends, which is really hard as an adult! Besides that, I have to reconcile with my wife after living apart for a year. She moved up here first when she got a new job and we (me and the two kiddos) were barely able to follow.
> 
> Anyway, I think that things are calming down and we have settled into our new routine. Updates should be coming more frequently now. :)


End file.
